The Red Death
by All Teeth
Summary: A planet suffering from a gruesome plauge calls upon Starfleet for help. McCoy finds it his responsibility to help the planet after discovering an odd cure. WARNING: Will contain SLASH McCoy/Scotty and Kirk/Spock. I don't own Star Trek or Poe. Plz Comment


The Red Death

By All Teeth

Notice: I do not own Star Trek or Edgar Allen Poe's work. I own the plot and writing.

-Note to the reader: While this story does have the premises of the new Star Trek 2009 movie, is should be looked at as only an altered form of The Original Series. Everything in The Original Series has happened for the most part and all the characters are portrayed in their TOS form. Just think of it as the new movie characters have aged and are now TOS characters.

Chapter one

Doctor Leonard McCoy sat down for his usual morning meal just like every other day. Well, almost. It was obvious that the good doctor hadn't cleaned up before coming to breakfast, a shadow of stubble clearly darkening his face, his hair a mess. While the doctor's usual appearance was clean and thought out, this wasn't completely abnormal. Occasionally McCoy would be caring for a patient that required overnight observation and would either forget to clean up or just not care out of fatigue. Especially if the patient had been difficult. This being known, few heeded the doctor's gruff countenance, bloodshot eyes and disgruntled posture. It was fair game to guess that Dr. McCoy had just had a rather long night dealing with some stubborn crewmate.

Sourly ambling over to a table from the food synthesizer, the doctor plopped himself down, only to stare at his food as though trying to recognize it as edible. Locked in this staring contest was exactly how Montgomery Scott found him.

"Fer god's sake man, yer lookin' as though your expectin' it to start movin'!" The Scot said in a lighthearted manner as he approached the man. "The synthesizer may be in a wee bit of a foul humor, but I guarantee it won't be doin' anything as crazy as that." Bones stared up at the chief engineer in a tried and bothered manner.

"Really." He half questioned, half stated with little change in facial expression. Scotty found himself rather uneasy at the mercy of Dr. McCoy's piercing blue gaze. Usually he wasn't unsettled by being arbitrated, but something about the way the physician scrutinized a person made him uncomfortable. That something always left the engineer frantically and almost unconsciously hoping he would never displease McCoy in great excess.

"Er….yes Doctor..that…that would seem to be the case…" The Scot admitted with embarrassment.

"Good god, has there ever been a time when something _isn't_ broken on this tin can?" McCoy spat, rather irritated with life in general and not taking into account how the statement might affect Scotty. But intentional or not, that one hit a nerve.

"_Doctor!_ She's a large ship. Me and my work team toil day in and day out to insure the safety of this ship and crew. Yet here you are, complainin' about a faulty synthesizer that _I'm_ considerate enough to be fixin' the next chance I get some free time!" The engineer hissed crossly , bring his tray down a little recklessly on the table from where he had been standing, eyes alight with a fiery passion. If anyone other than a friend had attempted such an insult, the Scotsman would most likely have slugged them hard enough to send them sprawling across the floor. McCoy remained unfazed, his wintery eyes simply gazing back at the Scotsman.

"Are you done?" He asked calmly after Scotty's fury ebbed, falling as quickly as it had risen. Montgomery nodded.

"Ay'. Well, that's enough of that." He said softly, looking at his tray. "Now, may I sit with ya, or are you in too much of a huff to stand a little friendly company?"

"Just sit, I don't care." McCoy paused as Scotty sat down and straightened out the contents on his tray. "And I'm not in a huff, I'm just tired."

"_Sure_ ya are, Doctor. And with bein' so tired, you decided that the best course of action would be wastin' your energy arguin' with the engineer." The dark haired man pointed out lightheartedly as he poured amber liquid from a previously pocketed canister into his coffee. Instead of responding with a rude or witty comeback, Bones simply swiped the canteen from Mr. Scott's hands.

" Ey now! Whatcha do that for? You've never had a problem with me drinkin'!"

"Now Scotty, you know it against regulation to carry personal liquor aboard the ship. And I believe you're also familiar with the fact that as Chief Medical Officer, it is my job to confiscate and incarcerate any unauthorized controlled substances that I discover." McCoy affirmed, simpering with pride of having annoyed a current nuisance. It's not that he didn't like the engineer, in all reality he was rather fond of him, it was just that Scotty always managed to insert himself into things at the worst of times. As if on cue, Montgomery piped up.

"Oh come now Doc, you know I carry that everywhere with me, besides, the coffee needs a wee bit of somthin' special thank to that malfunction! A strong cup of anythin' is lackin' the flavor it should! Not only that, but in temperature, mildly warm is as close to hot as your goin' ta get! Drinkin' a strong black cup a' hot stuff is more like drinking it lukewarm and wee bit on the flat side." McCoy paused a moment and grimaced at his mug of coffee he guessed would be unpalatable. The doctor then without hesitation dumped the remainder of Scotty's alcohol into his coffee without so much as a second thought.

"Now that just ain't fair" The Scotsman complained freely.

"Damn right it isn't." McCoy answered, grinning as he inhaled the aroma of liquor enhanced coffee.

"What are you two lovebirds chatting about?" A cheerful voice posed. A poorly synthesized muffin almost instantaneously found itself bouncing off Captain Kirk's head.

"Damn it Jim, can't you ever stop yourself from making inane proclamations and mind your own damn business?"

"Heh…sorry Bones. Guess I should know better than to get on your nerves after a night like last night." Kirk replied sheepishly, sitting alongside his friend.

"To hell you should. Especially after making me work with that pointy-eared bastard all goddamn night." Leonard retorted, glaring to his left where the Vulcan had just entered the mess hall. Kirk's gaze also flitted to his first officer, lingering there a little longer and in such a manner that the look seemed far more than just friendly. Bones rolled his eyes. Despite the captain's longing gaze, it would seem that James T. Kirk was either not willing to admit or completely oblivious to the fact that he held some sort of romantic interest in Spock. And as long as it remained that way, anything beyond friendship and a professional Captain/First Officer relationship would just not happen. It wasn't like _Spock_ was going to confess feeling for Jim, if any existed. Spock was a Vulcan, Vulcan's didn't _do_ feelings. He caught himself. That wasn't right. Salek had emotion. The old Vulcan always held some feeling in his eyes, a smile sometimes gracing his lips. He still had all his logic, but he showed emotion too. Then again, Spock wasn't Salek, not yet. The ambassador might be Spock's older form, but the younger still didn't show what the elder did. Nor would he admit to feelings as Salek would. It would be up to Kirk to make the first move on the first officer, which didn't seem to be going to happen anytime soon.

"So you and Mr. Spock were up all night, were ya? Doin' what exactly?" Scotty asked, breaking the doctor's train of thought.

"Research." McCoy replied shortly, taking a swig of what could easily have been very potent coffee flavored Scotch. Scotty really knew how to live up to a strong one. There had never been a more satisfying way to clear out one's sinuses so efficiently.

"Research of what exactly? You have me curious." The Scotsman asked intently. Kirk had finished checking out his first officer and started speaking before Bones got the chance.

"We received a transmission from Starfleet. It came in last night. Apparently there's…some sort of plague that has been ravaging Latria 3's large population of numerous species. Isn't that right Bones?" The doctor glared at his commanding officer and took another swig of boozed coffee, bringing the mug down with an irritated force.

"Unfortunately," McCoy paused to dampen his lips with a quick pass of his tongue, icy blue eyes solemn. "That seems to be case." His stare turned distant, almost lost. "This plague has been raging for three months. It's killed million and is killing hundreds more this very instant." Scotty listened with worry. They were in the Latria system, did this mean that McCoy would attempt to help the system's third planet? The doctor continued to speak. "The locals have aptly christened it the Red Death after Edgar Allen Poe's fictional epidemic of the same name. Only now, it doesn't seem so fictional. The initial symptoms include dizziness and fatigue, followed by sharp pains throughout the body. The pain seems to mark the end of the first stage, which can last up to a month. Then the disease really start getting messy, as it hands out its _good-natured_ calling card."

"And what exactly would this callin' card be?" Scotty asked hesitantly, curious, but being cautious. The good doctor was tired and stressed, his mood next to unpredictable. Montgomery never really indulged in antique books, that was more of Jim's thing. The engineer himself regrettably wasn't familiar with the story.

"Blood," The doctor spat through tight lips, voice slowly rising. "Flowing from every pore. The affected person literally starts bleeding through their own goddamned _skin_. Every organ in the body starts failing! It's only after multiple stints of painful convulsions that the victim's heart finally stops!" Seething, McCoy slammed his fists down on the table, jostling the plates and trays around him. An eerie silence followed the outburst, drawing the doctor's awareness to the fact that everyone in the room was staring at him. The brown haired man averted his eyes to the table in an attempt to calm down and dissuade attention from his tired, bedraggled form.

"Hey now, staring is rude, he's had a long night. Just mind your own business and go back to what you were doing." Kirk quickly bark at the crew from his friend's side. Jim was known for getting irritated with anyone who upset a friend. The crew knew this and knew to take the captain's command seriously, In a matter of minutes chatter resumed its regular level. "Bones, I think you should go and get some rest. Your exhausted." The man said softly, placing a gentle hand on Leonard's shoulder.

"I didn't realize you were a doctor. Oh that's right, you not. I'm staying." McCoy spat. Kirk opened his mouth to object. The doctor glared at him. "Don't you dare order me, Jim, I need to get this out of my system. Let me finish talking. You don't mind, Scotty?" He asked, it dawning on the man that the engineer might not want to be hearing about such a gruesome subject.

"I'm fine with listenin' doctor. If somethin' need be said, then say it." Montgomery replied. If something what weighing on the good doctor's mind, then it was best that he talk about it. McCoy gave a nod of thanks and slowly continued where he had left off.

"Once the bleeding starts, the affected is dead within as little as an hour to as long as a day. The disease is viral and highly efficient. It takes very little to contract this disease. There are two strands, the first spreads via contaminated air, the second through contact with infected bodily fluids. One can easily mutate into the other and vice versa once inside the human body. Thanks to most gruesome symptom of this disease, you can imagine this thing is pretty damn hard to avoid. As for a cure, it either hasn't been discovered yet or there isn't one. There is a vaccine to protect those who haven't gotten it yet, even then the strand that's contracted via bodily fluids has being known to infect people anyway. None the less, I'm requiring all members of the crew to receive the vaccine upon arrival at Star Lab 7462. I don't want to take any risks. After last night, I'll tell you now that the only one who won't be getting that vaccination is Spock-"

"Doctor! You should be ashamed! I know you don't like the man, but I should think Mr. Spock deserves the vaccine, just like everyone else! No one deserves to die like that, not even a Klingon, much less a man that's saved your hide more than once!" Montgomery objected, furious, tension still running high from the previous outbursts.

"Scotty…Calm down. I'm not exempting that green-blooded hobgoblin from receiving the vaccine out of a personal grudge, okay? I'm not giving him it because, well, that's just it, he's a green-blooded hobgoblin. Green-blooded being the key. You see, the plague only seems to infect life forms with iron based blood. It's not called the _Red_ Death for nothing, you know. Spock's blood is copper based, not only bestowing him with that chilly green stuff as his vital fluids but also perfect immunity to the epidemic. He took a good bit of time stating this fact in great detail last night while were dragging up every piece of info we could on the subject." McCoy made a face as Scotty snickered. This amusement didn't last long though, creating an uncomfortable silence. The engineer suddenly took great interest in a synthesized apple with a small knife to try to distract himself from the moment, his movements vigorous and awkward. The doctor eyed this action with tremendous concern.

"For Pete's sake, Scotty, are you _trying_ to lose another finger?" Montgomery's eyes shot up at the mentioning of his missing digit, causing exactly what Bones had been trying to prevent. In his distracted moment, the engineer missed his target in a single, nervous stroke, making a deep slice into his index finger. The Scot's reaction to this was purely instinctive. The man dropped the apple and knife, wincing in pain, and quickly drew his finger to his mouth. It was then that Dr. McCoy demonstrated Newton's third law with outstanding precision, responding to Scotty's action with an equally instinctive yet completely opposite reaction. The doctor instantly pulled Scotty's hand away from his mouth almost as soon as it had gotten there.

"Don't do that! Do you know just how many harmful bacteria you could transfer from your mouth to that cut and vice versa?" The brown haired man said sternly to the Scot, carefully unfurling the rough, callused workmen's hand to survey the damage. "Sorry..I-I shouldn't have mentioned your missing finger. I keep forgetting just how sensitive you are to that…" The doctor whispered, his voice as gentle as the soft, well-trained physician's hands that were working their way over the small wound. The engineer sighed inwardly, glancing at the stump that used to be his middle finger. Just because he tried to keep his right hand out of sight and pretended it never happened didn't mean his absent digit wasn't noticeable. Everyone on the ship was just polite about it, his injury never mentioned out of courtesy and respect. "Just let me know if I'm hurting you." McCoy said, using a more professional tone as he began to lightly press at the edges of the cut. Scotty winced at the initial sting, causing Leonard to glace up at him. The engineer nodded for him to continue. Just then a bubble of red welled up from the wound and rolled down the side of Montgomery's finger, letting fall a fat drop of crimson, Scottish blood. McCoy grimaced and tried to make the bleeding stop by adding pressure, but Scotty paid no heed. All the man could do was stare at the small scarlet splash of liquid that now glistened on the table.

"Damn it, this thing is deeper than I thought. Shit, I'm sorry Scotty. I'm so goddamn tired, I think I've gone and made it wors- Scotty? _Scotty_? You with me?" He asked with concern, suddenly noticing the engineer's trance-like state. The man didn't respond. "_Montgomery Scott_!" The doctor barked at him, finally snapping him back. The poor man almost fell out of his seat.

"Y-yes? What is it? What I do?" Scotty stammered, then realizing what happened. "Oh, sorry doctor. I guess I was in a fog there for a wee bit." The man apologized, embarrassed.

"You sure, Scotty? You've gone as white as a sheet." The surgeon asked, obviously worried. A sudden wave of nausea overwhelmed the Scot for a moment, the doctor quickly noticing this and steadying him.

"Now that ya mention it, my stomach doesn't seem to be agreein' with me."

"I can tell. You're almost as green as a blushing Vulcan. I'm taking you to sickbay."

"But-"

"No but's, we're going to sickbay. I need to properly fix that finger as well as give you a full over physical." McCoy said sternly, gazing fiercely into Scotty's eyes. He meant business, but none the less…

"A complete physical? Over a belly ache? Doctor, I don't see why-"

"Scotty! Listen to me! It's critical that everyone be in good health upon our arrival to Star Lab 7462. The lab carries strands of the plague for research and despite being contained in the most sterile and controlled environment on this side of the galaxy, the risk of exposing the virus to another disease _cannot_ occur. Even something as simple as a stomach bug is a threat. Now, let's get you to sickbay. You're going to have a clean bill of health before the day is out." Scotty nodded, finally giving in, an let Dr. McCoy lead him out. Almost. A sudden strangely puzzling and amusing realization halted him before they reached the door.

"Doctor? I have a question."

"What's that?"

"How is it that the captain got up and moved next to Mr. Spock without us noticin'?" McCoy looked where Jim now sat and grinned, then turning Scotty into the hallway towards sickbay.

"That, my friend, is something I think we'll never find out."


End file.
